


me and you (and all of this living dead)

by dangerousgays



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Biting, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP, Smut, Vampire Sex, Vampires, cute!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 01:18:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18840688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerousgays/pseuds/dangerousgays
Summary: Frank knows how Gerard gets his blood— he's watched it happen before, and it definitely does not turn him on at all because Frank Iero is not a monster fucker. He’s not.But he's also not going to pretend he doesn't want Gerard to bite him, because he does.He dreams about it— about the easy pierce of fangs into his skin, about the slide of Gerard's lips on his collarbone, about sucking his own blood off of Gerard's tongue when he's full.





	me and you (and all of this living dead)

**Author's Note:**

> here’s a quickie 4 those of y’all who like vamps (n please read the end notes!!) <33

frank loves gerard. he does. he loves the guy, even if he's a bloodsucking little fiend that can only stand the sunshine for a half hour or so. 

 

when gerard and mikey first told frank gerard was a vampire, frank laughed. he laughed and laughed and then suddenly stopped laughing when he noticed the curiously sharp canines that poked out of gerard's crooked, unsure smile, and remembered how gerard stayed in all summer and painted in the basement instead of going to the beach, and the funny look gerard gave him once when frank asked if he was wearing red lipstick. 

 

so yeah, frank loves gerard. maybe in a little, unconventional, not-so-brotherly way— but that's nobody's business but his own. nobody's at all. frank doesn't even let himself think about it all that often— his dreams of gerard nuzzling along his neck are dangerous enough without him adding any conscious fuel to the fire. 

 

frank's about ready to off himself when mikey announces that he's going out of town for a week, frank, that means you get to take care of gerard and make sure he's getting enough blood so he doesn't fucking die. frank had a hamster once, and it lasted two weeks. he doesn't want to know how quickly he'll fuck up a human's meal schedule if he couldn't handle a fucking rodent. 

 

but he doesn't have a choice. frank likes gerard, likes the way he french-inhales his cigarettes and sketches funny things for frank and leaves the paint that splatters in his hair there for days, so he's not really a fan of the idea of him dying. he tells gerard so the day of mikey's departure. 

 

gerard laughs at him. "thanks, frankie," he says without looking at him, pulling back to inspect the brushstrokes he's just added to his painting. "i'm not a fan of the whole dying thing either."

 

there is one issue with the whole setup that frank probably should have asked about before mikey left for the airport, though. 

 

"um," frank says.

 

gerard looks up at him with a question in his eyes, greasy black hair tangling in his lashes. frank's hand twitches with the need to brush it behind his ears. 

 

"what exactly do you need me to... y'know," frank says lamely. he gestures vaguely around the basement. "do." he knows how gerard gets his blood— he's watched it happen before, and it definitely does not turn him on because frank iero is not a monster fucker— but he's never supervised gee while he finds a... a victim. and he never has a problem with finding someone, either; maybe it's got something to do with gerard's lithe strength, perfect facial structure, and his ability to charm the pants off anyone and their mother. 

 

gerard almost laughs— frank can tell in the way he tilts his head, amused and even a little predatory. "just bring me to the club," he says, turning back around on his stool to put his paintbrush into what frank's pretty sure is yesterday's coffee mug. "you just have to get me there and back and maybe make sure i stay sober enough to not-" gerard cringes a little before finishing. "um. not kill somebody by accident."

 

the saddest thing about frank's dumb infatuation with gerard is that he honestly doesn't give a shit if gerard's killed anyone by accident. if anything, he thinks, it would be a pretty cool way to go out. 

 

frank snaps back to reality when he notices gerard's facing him again, studying his expression thoughtfully. "cool," frank makes himself say. "what time?" 

 

gerard slides his phone out of his pocket a little to check the time, smudging the screen with blue acrylic. "'bout an hour from now," he says, grinning up at frank. "you should go home 'nd dress up, frankie." 

 

frank nods. he's got tunnel vision— all he can see is the glint of sharp teeth in gerard's mouth, at a contrast to the softness of the rest of his existence. 

 

nothing about gee decidedly screams vampire, he thinks to himself (not for the first time) as he makes the two minute walk to his apartment from the way house. he's nice, and he likes comics, and he likes coffee, and he can't remember one time gerard's brought somebody home in the five years frank's known him. from what mikey's told him, he never exactly liked the outdoors, even before he was a fucking vampire. 

 

frank sighs as he stares down all of the clothes in his closet, nothing looking appropriate for a night out where you can only sit at the bar, unable to get drunk, because your best friend's a vampire and needs babysitting while he finds someone who's willing to let him snack on their blood. 

 

he's not going to pretend he doesn't want gerard to bite him. he does. he dreams about it. about the easy pierce of fangs into his skin, about the slide of gerard's lips on his collarbone, about sucking his own blood off of gerard's tongue when he's full. 

 

frank settles on black ripped jeans and a dark grey band shirt, pulling on a light jacket over it. 

 

tonight's going to be a long night. 

 

—

 

gerard makes a beeline straight for the bar when they get inside, ordering a coke each for him and frank. he hands frank his, clinks them together with a lopsided smile, and then disappears into the crowd. frank keeps an eye on him as best he can as gerard flits around the club, charming person after person with his perfect cheekbones and pixie nose and eyelashes like a maybelline model— but something seems to be off. 

 

gerard comes back to frank a half hour later, a small frown on his face. it makes him look like a petulant man-child, and frank wants to kiss it right off his stupidly attractive face. he tries not to watch as gee runs his tongue along his teeth, gleaming in the club's strobe lights. 

 

"what's up?" frank says as gerard hops up onto the empty stool next to him and beckons the bartender over. gerard orders a sprite with lime before he swivels to face frank and answers. 

 

"can't get anyone," he says, pouting. "this never happens."

 

frank sighs. "maybe having mikey around helps," he suggests. "he's an extra good-looking face." 

 

gerard looks at frank like he's an idiot. "you're stupidly pretty, frankie," he says. "maybe they're looking at you instead." 

 

frank startles a little. gerard's never called him pretty before— at least not to his knowledge. it makes him glow a little, but underneath, it also makes frank feel worse. the words mean so much more to him than they do to gerard. he forces himself to grin at gee a little, though. 

 

"i'll try and tone down my sex-god act over here, then," he tries to joke. "go get 'em, tiger." 

 

but try as gerard might, he can't seem to reel them in like he usually does. frank watches him grind on the dance floor, whisper into girls' ears, and give little cheek kisses, but after each failed attempt, the hidden frustration on gerard's face grows. 

 

frank's watching some game on the tv through one eye, head propped up on his hand and sipping lazily on lukewarm water, when he feels the whisper of fingers on his elbow. it's gerard. 

 

"can we go?" gerard asks, like he needs frank's permission. he looks downtrodden, and frank feels bad. he's hungry— frank can tell by the way his face looks a little sallow, no healthy glow of blood pumping through him— but there's something else, too, something frank's upset with himself that he can't put his finger on. he knows gee like the back of his hand, and he's annoyed he can't place this expression on gerard's face. 

 

frank slips down from his stool with a nod and tangles his fingers with gerard's where his hand has slid down to frank's from his elbow. "is everything okay?" 

 

"um," gerard says, looking at the ground, and his cheeks don't have enough blood to flush, but frank can tell he'd be blushing if they did. "nobody would pick me up because they think you're my boyfriend." 

 

"oh," frank says, pausing where he's got a hand on the door, about to push into the chilly night. 

 

"oh," gerard echos. he pulls his hand out of frank's rather abruptly and shoves both of them in the pockets of his leather jacket, cowl up and feet scuffing at the gravel. 

 

it's obvious something's bothering him besides lack of blood, but frank doesn't want to pry, so he stays silent. he finally starts his old car— third time's the charm— and drives them back to gerard's house. 

 

when frank walks gerard to the door, gee invites him in. "it's later than usual," he says to frank as he unlocks the front door. "you might as well just stay over." 

 

usually, sleepovers (jesus, he's way too old to be calling it a sleepover) at the the way house are fantastic, with horror movie marathons and way too much popcorn and a couple of veggie supreme pizzas to share, but gerard seems worn down and tired tonight, which, of course, is to be expected. he doesn't have to eat every day, frank's learned over the years, but it puts him in a bad mood if he doesn't. gerard must notice frank's concerned staring, because he flips him off behind his back as they make their way downstairs. 

"i'm fine," he says when they reach the bottom, quirking frank a smile as he flicks off the overhead lights he left on before they went out. gerard peels off his leather jacket, throws it in the general direction of the easel, and throws himself, sprawling, on top of his unmade bed. frank wanders to gerard's dresser, stealing a pair of pajama pants. he makes his way to the tiny powder room and changes, leaving his clothes on the ground. 

gee sits up when he sees him come out of the bathroom, also in his pajamas now, and pats the empty side of the bed next to him with one hand while fumbling for what frank assumes is the tv remote with the other. as frank sits on the bed gingerly, slinging his legs up as the springs groan underneath their combined weight, gerard curls up next to him. 

 

he shoves his head into the crook of frank's neck, which, at least, is a familiar gerard thing. he's a total touch-slut, and after they became friends frank found himself gerard's designated hair-player-wither. he immediately digs his fingers into gee's hair, not giving a fuck about how greasy it is, and relishes in the little sigh gerard gives when frank's nails scritch across his scalp. 

 

he turns his attention to the movie, absently carding his fingers through gee's hair and resolutely not moving at all when gerard turns his face into frank's neck. frank can feel hot breath against his pulse point every time gerard breathes. it makes his heart beat faster in a stupid rom-com way, except he's never seen a rom-com where neck kissing included drinking somebody's blood. 

 

gerard falls a little more limply against frank when he falls asleep soon after, all the tension in his body melting away. he looks younger, softer, and as frank studies his face, he wants to trace his brow with his tongue, kiss the edges of his jawbone— but he doesn't. he keeps his hand in gee's hair until he falls asleep too, the movie still murmuring quietly in the background. 

 

—

 

frank wakes up disoriented, the room pitch black except for the dim glow of the tv. he has no idea what woke him up, until he registers that he's propped up against the headboard, and there's something nuzzling along the underside of his jaw.

 

"gee?" he says, his voice unsteady, and the nuzzling stops momentarily before gerard goes back to whatever the fuck he was doing. he drags his nose up frank's neck, inhaling, before snuffling like a puppy, with a hint of tongue, along frank's jawline to his ear. there's a hand on his thigh, and it slides dangerously close to frank's crotch as gerard moves his nose. 

 

"gee," frank says again, his voice a little more resolute. he feels gee pull away, and he can't see gerard yet with the darkness, but he knows gerard can see him, eyes wide in the dark and dick starting to tent in his pjs. frank can imagine what gee looks like, hair wild and eyes desperate, but shakes the idea from his mind as soon as it enters. 

 

"you don't want this," frank says shakily. "you're just hungry." 

 

"no," gerard whines, and there's that hint of petulance that makes frank want to rail him into the closest horizontal surface. "want you, frankie, god, always have-" he cuts himself off to shove his face back into the curve where frank's neck meets his shoulder, mouthing at the area with his lips before swiping his tongue across it. frank feels the shudder that runs through gerard throughout his own body. he can only imagine what's going through gerard's head, with frank so close and so full of blood. 

 

frank shifts, because god, he can already feel his own body betraying him, but gerard takes advantage of the movement. he swings one leg across frank's body to straddle him and pushes his hips against frank's in a filthy roll. 

 

frank can't help the sound he makes low in his throat, deep and dirty, and it spurs gerard on. frank feels disgusting as gerard grinds down on him, dick sliding against frank's through layers of fabric. frank knows, in his bones, that gerard doesn't really want this— doesn't really want him. it's the bloodlust talking. but frank's anything if not a generous person, so he figures it's worth the heartbreak of gerard rejecting him later if gee survives the night by biting him. 

 

"hungry," gerard says, breaking off into a high-pitched groan when frank finally grabs gee's hips with a bruising grip and starts meeting his feverish thrusts.

 

"i know," frank says, releasing one of gerard's hips to reach up and trail his hand lightly across gee's cheek. he leans into the touch, like a sunflower following the sun, and frank slips his thumb into gee's mouth without thinking. 

 

it scares him a little, at first, when he realizes he's just put a finger full of hot blood into a vampire's mouth, but frank finds that he trusts gee entirely. with his life, even. gerard wraps his lips delicately around frank's digit and starts to suckle lightly, and heat flashes through frank's body every time he feels the razor-sharp tip of a fang brush over the pad of his thumb. 

 

gerard opens his mouth wider as he tongues at frank's thumb, like an invitation, so frank takes it as one. he keeps rolling his hips against gerard's even as he shoves his index and middle finger into gee's mouth instead, smearing the saliva left on his thumb onto gerard's jaw, watching it drip down onto his neck, slow and filthy. keeping his arms on either side of frank's head, gee wraps his mouth around frank's fingers and pushes his own head down, corkscrewing them further into his mouth and down his throat. frank watches him gag on them, fascinated, unable to look away. 

 

gerard pulls off with a wet pop a second later, lips slick and red. frank lets his hand drop to his side, unsure of what's going to happen next as gerard keeps humping him into the mattress. 

 

"like a fucking dog, huh?" he mutters without thinking. gerard's eyes go wide and his breathing hitches as his hips stutter a little in their rhythm, emboldening frank. "like you're in heat," he continues. "gonna shove your dick up against anything that'll get you off." he grabs back onto gerard's hips, forces him to slow down to whatever pace frank wants.

 

gerard groans frustratedly. frank can feel how hard he is, stiff and solid against his hip. 

 

"frankie, fuck," gerard says breathily, leaning down to ghost his mouth along frank's collarbone. "can i- i need to-" he leaves the last part unspoken, but frank knows what he means.

 

frank wants it. he knows he does. he wants to feel gerard suck at his neck, leave his mark on frank's skin. 

 

"yes," he hisses, pressing his hips up as gerard keeps sliding their cocks against each other. "yes, fuck- fucking do it, god, bite me-"

 

gerard doesn't need to be told twice, it seems. he moves his wet mouth a little higher, to the junction where frank's shoulder meets his neck, and bites. 

 

it's like- it's like a tetanus shot of ecstasy. frank feels sharp teeth slide into his neck, smooth and sweet. he can barely hear gerard slurping over the ringing in his ears— it's so good, so fucking good. gerard's tongue prods at the wound as he pulls his teeth out and he makes this totally fucking obscene sound against frank's neck and oh, frank's going to cum. he's totally going to blow his load in his pants like a fucking teenager just from letting gerard drink from him. gerard pulls his mouth off of frank's neck completely, flattening his tongue and lapping at the punctures. every time his tongue touches the area, it sends sparks of brightwhitehot pleasure straight to frank's dick. 

 

"fuck, jesus fuck, gee," frank says. "gonna cum, bite me again, please-" he knows he sounds like a whore, begging for it, but he needs it, needs gerard's teeth in him again. 

 

"shh, frankie," gee says. frank groans, loud in the basement. gerard reaches a hand up and fastens it in frank's hair, attacking his lips in a bruising kiss. frank tastes his own blood, metallic and hot and sweet, on gee's tongue. he lets gee tonguefuck his mouth, prodding at frank's lipring. gerard pulls back a little before nibbling at frank's lip, carefully, catching just the top layer of skin between his teeth and grazing it with his tongue. it's so hot, so fucking hot, and frank moans his appreciation into gerard's mouth. 

 

finally gerard pulls back, hands back on either side of frank's face, and studies him. frank feels like a slut, but he feels like gerard's slut— he knows he looks ruined, his own blood smeared across his lips and dripping from his shoulder, bottom lip indented with the impression of gerard's fangs. 

 

"so good," gee pants, rolling his hips hard against frank's. frank needs to come. he needs more, fucking more, he needs gerard to fucking bite him again. he stretches his neck out to one side, watches gerard's eyes follow the curve before snapping back to frank's eyes. 

 

"slut," gerard says affectionately. he lowers himself back onto frank, kissing and licking down his stomach. he leaves a red smear across frank's chest, and god, that's frank's own blood, glistening as gerard sucks hard on frank's skin, pulling it against the back of his fangs, just enough to bruise. 

 

"so fucking good," gerard says, sliding back up frank's body to bite down lightly on his earlobe, a promise. "taste so good, frankie, so fucking good," and then he's yanking frank's head up by his hair and biting down hard on frank's pulse point. 

 

frank explodes in his pants, cock spurting in time with the pulse that's pumping blood from his neck right into gerard's mouth. gerard is groaning again, wet and hot near frank's ear, as he swallows frank's blood. gerard forces a hand in between their hips, presses hard on frank's dick before stroking him in time with his sucking on frank's neck. when gee finally pulls back, pushing both his hands into frank's hair to look down at him intently, frank feels the twin bites on either side of his neck pulse. they burn, hot and sharp like starlight. 

he's dizzy, so dizzy, and there must be something in vampire fangs that gets you high, because frank feels like he's floating, his dick still twitching as gerard keeps pressing down on it. 

"so hot," gerard says. "god, frankie, you have no idea how long i've wanted to get my mouth on you." 

 

and oh. apparently frank's wrong about gerard having regrets after he's drank his fill. he realizes with a start when gee humps against him again— fuck, he's such a bad lay— that gee's still hard. he shoves gerard off of him, onto the other side of the bed. 

 

gerard immediately looks like he did earlier in the evening, fuck, that seems so long ago, like he's about to cry. "frankie," he starts, sounding apologetic, but frank shuts him up by leaning down to mouth at gee's erection through his thin flannel pants. and holy shit, gee is wet, fucking soaking through the fabric. frank presses gee's legs up so he's bent at the knee and yanks his pants down with his teeth, and there's gerard's dick in all its glory. 

 

and holy fuck, is it huge, but it just so happens frank's an enormous cockslut. he looks up, and gee's grinning at him, easy and soft, teeth pink with frank's blood. 

 

he turns his attention back to gee's dick and groans, can't fucking wait to get his mouth on it and shove it down his throat. he surges forward to press his lips to the tip, wrapping his hand around the base to jerk him, meeting his mouth with every stroke. and oh, fuck, gerard just keeps leaking, leaking like a motherfucker into frank's mouth, tasting bitter and warm and so, so fucking good. 

 

frank takes his hand off gee's dick and hears a frustrated moan from above, but it's quickly cut off when he shoves gerard's entire dick into his mouth. he traces his tongue along the vein on the underside, drags the tip through gee's slit, just to hear him whine. 

 

"yeah, frankie," he hears from above. "fucking born to suck cock, huh? your mouth is so good, so warm, jesus fuck-" it makes frank proud, to know he's still got it, still knows how to take dick so well. 

 

without thinking, frank reaches up with one hand to fondle gerard's balls, and that must really do it for gerard, because a rush of precome trickles down frank's throat. he pulls off gee's dick, a string of saliva from his mouth to the tip, to mouth messily at one of his balls instead, massaging at the other with his hand. 

 

there's fingers tight in frank's hair again, controlling and harsh, and he relishes the pull in his scalp as he moves a finger on his other hand down, down, to circle gerard's rim while he keeps tonguing at gerard's sac. "yes, god, frank," gerard says. "fucking- yes, god, suck me off, too, good boy." 

 

frank reluctantly lets go of gee's balls and swallows gerard's dick back down his throat instead as he shoves two fingers deep into gerard's ass, crooking them. he stops bobbing up and down and opens his mouth wide, letting gerard take him, fuck his face like he owns him.   god, what he'd give to belong to gee, get a facefucking like this every night. 

 

"gonna come," gerard breathes out, thrusting hard into frank's mouth. "gonna come, gonna come down your throat, god, so perfect-"

 

frank bends his two fingers inside gee's ass and presses down, hard, when he's sure he's found it. and he did, it appears, because gerard makes this absolutely filthy, high-pitched 'ah' sound before spilling down frank's throat. frank keeps sucking like his life depends on it, frantic and desperate, until gerard pulls him off. frank looks up, dazed, into gerard's eyes. 

 

"so good, frankie," gee says. "so good for me, c'mere, sweetheart." 

 

gee drags him up to straddle his legs before wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling frank in for an obscene kiss. 

 

it's a clash of tongue and teeth and cum and blood, metallic and sharp and hot and so, so sweet. it's the best thing frank's ever tasted, and he feels drunk on it, like nothing's ever gonna feel as good. 

 

when he finally pulls back, gee's grinning at him, bright and shining and flush and looking so, so alive. there's blood on his lips, on his chin, vibrant on his tongue where it pokes out a little. frank waits, keeping eye contact, for it to feel awkward, but it never does. gee just flips him around and pulls frank flush to his chest, resting his head on frank's shoulder. 

 

"i love you," gerard says, words vibrating lightly against skin. "have for a while now." it's quiet, and frank can barely hear it over the murmur of the movie that's still playing, and he wonders if he was supposed to hear it at all. 

 

"i love you too," he says. "have for even longer." 

 

frank falls asleep again with his hands in gee's hair.

**Author's Note:**

> hi !!! this hasn’t been read over at all so if u see any glaring mistakes let me know!!  
> (sorry for no capital letters. apparently i write much better without them? but next work will be capitalized <33)
> 
> also! this is NOT the vamp au i have in the works. the other one is much longer n has much more plot, but i promise you she’ll be out soon. 
> 
> i have six (six!!!!) current WIPs, but if u have any requests let me know because they help a hell of a lot. hope u enjoyed!!


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